


It Comes in Pints

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:43:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8836150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Not all Elves like wine.





	

Erestor found it terribly amusing at times that he, someone told often in Rivendell that he spent far too much time in the library, was now in a relationship with a fellow librarian who seemed far less like a librarian and spent far more time in libraries. “Alone, I find you, nestled in the depths of knowledge.” Erestor knew enough now than to disrupt Fingon in the midst of a project, and from the number of documents spread over the table, he was clearly working on something important - so important, that he kept the open bottle far from his work space. Erestor sat down on one of the worn chairs. Like so many things in the Cottage of Lost Play, they had made do with what was available, and the chair was draped with a throw to cover the torn fabric, and a pillow was on the seat to cushion where the original seat of the chair had compacted over centuries of use. Erestor was just about to be comfortable when he took note of the bottle again. “Are you drinking beer?”

Fingon sat back and away from his work and took hold of the bottle. “I bought a few the last time I was at market and forgot them in the carriage. They were nice and cold, so I brought one in with me.” He brought the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back. “It has a nice honey flavor to it. You might like it. If you want to try a sip.”

There was a smirk playing at Erestor’s lips as he rested his chin upon his hand. “You drink beer.”

Fingon swirled the liquid in the bottle and smiled. “I was going to say something at some point, but… you really seem to like wine, and we started with five people, and now there are just the two of us -- not that I am complaining, but, well, I know how you can get if you drink too much, but I also know you do not like to leave bottles half empty, so you probably would drink it all, and…” Fingon left his run-on sentence unfinished, as Erestor had continued to smirk at him the entire time he spoke. “What?”

“Glorfindel likes wine. We used to drink it all the time -- tis true, I would finish the bottles. If I had my choice, I would choose a good mug of stout.”

“Stout is good if you want to drink a meal,” commented Fingon. He took another drink of his bottle, and then laughed. “So we have basically gone through bottle after bottle of wine, night after night, because we thought we were making each other happy.”

Erestor pushed himself up from the chair. “Seems like it.” He walked to Fingon and took hold of the bottle. “Is this from a local brewery?”

“No idea. It just sounded good,” admitted Fingon.

“Definitely smells like honey.” Erestor took a swig from the bottle. “Much better than wine.” He handed the bottle back to Fingon. “I also avoided drinking beer because Glorfindel hates the taste, and he made faces if I kissed him after drinking it.”

Fingon used one hand to take another drink from the bottle and the other to tug on Erestor’s arm. Once Erestor was close enough, Fingon set the bottle aside and coaxed Erestor to straddle his lap. “Good thing I like the taste of beer,” said Fingon as he gripped Erestor’s thighs.

Erestor rocked against Fingon as they kissed and groped each other. While Fingon dug his fingers into Erestor’s backside to encourage his movements, Erestor ran his hands over Fingon’s shoulders and back, and moaned needfully. It was only a few moments later that they both froze as the chair creaked. “Oh, shit,” whispered Fingon just before the chair collapsed and left them in a heap on the floor.

There was a brief pause as they silently assessed the situation, and then they both began to laugh. “I know we are trying to be frugal about this place, but we really need to buy some new chairs,” Fingon declared as he held up a detached arm.

Erestor put his arms back around Fingon. “Tomorrow, after we finish our duties at the school, maybe we can make it to the market before all of the vendors leave for the day. Perhaps if we are lucky, we can even find a brewer to sell us some ale to celebrate our new furniture.”

“Maybe we can meet halfway and find a dark ale or a porter we can agree upon,” suggested Fingon. 

“I like pale ales, too,” remarked Erestor. “Actually, I really like this one.” He reached up to retrieve the bottle and drank the remainder of it. 

Fingon waited until Erestor finished before he slid his hand behind Erestor’s neck and then pulled him closer. “It has an excellent aftertaste,” he said after kissing Erestor several times.


End file.
